


Outside Looking In

by Venusdoom3



Series: Related Stucky One-Shots [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Barebacking, But Only Because Super-Soldiers Don't Need CondomS, Couch Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venusdoom3/pseuds/Venusdoom3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Struggling to stay silent, Tony sat up ramrod straight, his brown eyes as wide as satellite dishes and his jaw resembling a Venus fly trap. Since fucking when were these two good ol' boys from Brooklyn, holdovers from the early twentieth century, one the veritable paragon of American apple pie virtue and the other the scariest motherfucker Tony had ever met (at least, he was at one point; Barnes had lightened up considerably since reacquainting himself with life outside Hydra), DTF for each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outside Looking In

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in an embarrassingly long time, my first on this site, and my first one in this fandom, so please be gentle! Totally unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Do not own, mean no harm, and all that good stuff.

**

(2016)

**

Bucky Barnes moved around the tower's communal kitchen with an easy, almost enviable grace, chopping vegetables and sautéing something that smelled pretty damn good even from the large balcony just off the sliding doors.

Tony had been sitting – okay, more like slumping – in a lounge chair on the balcony for almost an hour before Barnes appeared, long hair damp from a recent shower, wearing loose black sweatpants and a white tank top that displayed chiseled pecs, tight abs, and both arms. The metal one generally had Tony's attention, but that was no secret to anyone. Maybe it was the mild high he still felt from smoking a fat joint when he first came out here, but as he sat in the warm late spring air in the dark dozens of stories above the street, watching Barnes move around the kitchen, Tony couldn't deny his appreciation for the rest of him, either.

 _Pretty hot for a guy within throwing distance of his hundredth birthday,_ Tony thought with a cheeky grin. Barnes was apparently unaware of Tony's presence as he rattled around the kitchen, building some kind of culinary concoction that looked big enough to feed an army (to be fair, Thor _and_ Barton were expected for dinner). Still riding his pleasant high, Tony watched Barnes for a good twenty minutes or so before he finally slid a huge pan into the oven and stepped back, arming a sheen of sweat off his forehead.

"Look at you, this domestic goddess all of a sudden," came a voice from inside, and Barnes turned to grin at the owner of that voice, a certain uptight elderly war veteran with a ridiculously hot ass he insisted on pouring into tights as his "uniform." Steve Rogers stood in the opening between the living room and the kitchen, leaning against the half-wall between the two rooms. To get there, he would have had to walk right past the huge, open windows lining the living room, but Tony somehow missed his approach, probably because he was too absorbed in watching Barnes bend over to put dinner in the oven. Yowza.

Speaking of great asses, Tony had an excellent view of Rogers' perfect bubble butt from his lounge chair, which overlooked both the kitchen and the living room. Tony was a big fan of open floor plans. Neither of them could see him where he sat just beyond the reach of the lights from inside. He should probably make his presence known, but he was too relaxed to get up, and besides, it would tickle him absolutely pink if he could scare the socks off a pair of geriatric super soldiers.

"Shut up, you." Barnes leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. Tony could easily develop a fetish for that metal arm. Fuck, but it was sexy. What a shame Barnes kept it mostly covered at home – at least, on the communal floor of Avengers Tower. Who knew what he wore in his bedroom on the floor he shared with Rogers. Tony salivated a little at the thought of the old man – who, for the record, looked no older than his late twenties at the outside – chilling in his room _sans_ clothing. _Damn_. He couldn't help wondering if Rogers ever walked in on him in the shower or... anything. "I was just makin' dinner for the whole crew. Nat said to expect everybody around eight."

"Nobody's here?"

Barnes shook his head. "I was in the gym for a while, but I haven't seen a soul up here."

"Good." Rogers motioned toward the living room with his head. "Come here, Sergeant. Or maybe I should call you Drill Sergeant."

"Why?" Barnes ambled after Rogers, and just inside the living room came a one-two punch that left Tony reeling.

"Well, you _did_ drill me pretty hard last night," Rogers said with a _totally_ uncharacteristic leer–

– _What?!–_

– and, slipping a hand around the back of Barnes' neck, pulled him in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss that Barnes returned immediately and enthusiastically.

– _WHAT?!_

Struggling to stay silent, Tony sat up ramrod straight, his brown eyes as wide as satellite dishes and his jaw resembling a Venus fly trap. Since fucking _when_ were these two good ol' boys from Brooklyn, holdovers from the early twentieth century, one the veritable paragon of American apple pie virtue and the other the scariest motherfucker Tony had ever met (at least, he _was_ at one point; Barnes had lightened up considerably since reacquainting himself with life outside Hydra), DTF for each other?

When Rogers finally released Barnes' tongue, it took Barnes a second to open his eyes. Despite his hands on Rogers' waist to ground himself, he looked a bit unsteady on his feet and more than a little dopey. "I've been waitin' for that since I woke up this morning. _Alone_ , I might add."

"I woulda woke you up by suckin' you off if I hadn't kept you awake half the night." Rogers' smile widened. God  _damn_ , but it was cute the way old timey Brooklyn seeped into their voices when they were together. "That was epic. I'm _still_ a little sore, and you know how fast I usually bounce back from a good pounding."

 _Fuck me,_ Tony lamented internally, swallowing a lump in his throat roughly the size of a grapefruit. _I'm going to die of a stroke out here, and nobody will ever know what caused it._

"Wanna go upstairs for a bit?" Rogers slipped a hand under the hem of Barnes' tank top on either side and rucked it up to his ribs, exposing those incredible goddamn abs. "I was thinkin' it's your turn."

"Fuck," Barnes said in a voice too quiet for Tony to hear from outside, although he read the sentiment on Barnes' luscious red lips just fine. "I can't," he continued a little louder, sounding shockingly pouty for a _goddamn fucking ex-assassin_. "I gotta be here when the timer goes off so I can uncover the pan, and then–"

"Then we'll do it right here." Grinning, Rogers placed a hand in the center of Barnes' chest and pushed him into a sitting position on the couch.

Tony's pants were suddenly very much too tight. _Jesus Christ. Is this real life?_

"Here?" Barnes practically squeaked. "What if somebody comes in?"

Rogers knelt between Barnes' splayed knees, resting his hands on Barnes' mouth-wateringly muscular thighs. "We'll hear the elevator and throw our clothes back on."

 _Isn't someone quite the idea man?_ Tony thought, barely suppressing a snort, although he himself could probably come up with all kinds of creative ways, places, and reasons to fuck Barnes should the opportunity arise. He could tell Barnes had no fight left in him – if, at this point, anyone could be led to believe he had any fight in him for Rogers in the first place – when Barnes gave a dark, fucking _ridiculously_ sexy smile and pulled his shirt over his head.

"You owe me for this," Barnes said, eyes glinting, as Rogers climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and planting his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Barnes' broad shoulders.

"I'll make it up to you right now."

The couch was positioned against the half-wall separating the kitchen and living room, so from that angle, Tony had a marvelous view of Rogers' broad, well muscled back beneath yet another in a long line of too-tight t-shirts – not that Tony blamed him for showing it off – and his enviable ass lovingly encased in thin grey sweat shorts. From where Tony sat, it appeared the former Howling Commando was _going_ commando, and despite his love-hate relationship with Rogers, he couldn't help hoping he would find out for sure before long. No matter how much Rogers annoyed him sometimes, the fact remained that the old geezer was smoking hot, and Tony had jerked off many a time imagining sinking his teeth (among other things) into that round, perfect ass.

While Tony watched, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Rogers bent down to plant another long, deep, searing kiss on Barnes' willing mouth, grinding his hips against Barnes with a slow, sensual rolling motion that Tony never in a million years would have pictured him capable of doing. Barnes responded by sliding his hands down the back of Rogers' shorts and grabbing a double handful. Tony fought to keep his breathing regular and definitely not heavy and desperate like it wanted to be as the motion of Rogers' hips grew more and more deliberate and as Barnes threw his head back against the couch with a _holy shit mother of god sexy as fuck_ moan. Any resolve Tony might have had to refrain from touching himself melted and turned to steam at that sound.

Rogers peeled off his own shirt, revealing _all_ of those _goddamned muscles_ , then cupped the back of Barnes' head, pulling Barnes' face to his chest. Tony couldn't see exactly what was happening, but judging by the way Rogers' head fell back and by the muffled moans and sucking sounds Barnes was making, there was almost definitely some mouth-on-nipple action going on. Biting his lip, Tony squirmed a little in his seat, trying to adjust himself over his jeans to relieve some of the pressure building down there.

"Fuck, you're sexy," came Barnes' voice then, sounding markedly out of breath. "I wanna get my mouth on every part of you."

"Nope." Rogers slid off the couch, coming to rest on his knees between Barnes' legs. "My turn." He punctuated that statement by dragging Barnes' pants down his hips and tossing them off to the side, leaving Barnes gloriously naked, reclining on the couch like a fucking work of art with his impressive chest heaving and his gorgeous uncut dick standing flushed and proud against his belly. Tony hadn't thought about it – had kind of taken it for granted during his frequent "alone time" fantasies – but it made sense that a guy born in – what, 1917? – wouldn't be circumcised. Holy hell, that was hot. He couldn't help wondering if Rogers had a similar situation going on.

Before he could spend much time chasing that train of thought, his brain nearly fried itself at the sight of Rogers slipping his hands beneath Barnes' ass and tugging him to the edge of the couch. With no preamble whatsoever, Rogers pushed Barnes' legs back – _God almighty, those muscular thighs!_ – and commenced an extremely wet, extremely exuberant, and extremely thorough rimjob that had Barnes groaning and gripping Rogers' hair within seconds.

 _Fuck_. Tony had either been a very, very good boy or a very, very bad one to deserve this show.

For a guy whose entire set of social skills once included sitting in corners, glowering, and remaining eerily silent, Barnes was awfully vocal while Rogers tongued his ass with great enthusiasm. The sounds he made were, in fact, what pushed Tony beyond his limits of self control, all but forcing him to pop open his fly and start rubbing his hard-on to relieve the worst of the pressure. He just couldn't help himself when faced with those perfect features contorted in gorgeous rapture and that deep voice gasping, sighing, moaning, cursing, and gritting out Rogers' name like a prayer.

"Fuck, Stevie..."

 _Stevie._ Tony couldn't decide if that was ridiculously hot or just ridiculous, but since everything else he was seeing and hearing rested firmly on the side of hot, he leaned in that direction on the subject of cutesy nicknames uttered as delirious groans by a previously brainwashed murderbot to America's favorite star-spangled nonagenarian, especially when the latter had his tongue and most of his face buried in the former's exceptionally nice ass.

Tony would have been perfectly happy watching just that for another hour or possibly eternity as Rogers' earnest attention to the task at hand – at tongue? – drew the most delicious sounds out of Barnes, who clutched Rogers' head with one hand and the couch cushions with the other. Tony was particularly enraptured with the way Barnes' legs trembled, because Tony could think of nothing hotter in the universe than reducing a tough, sexy bad boy to a whimpering, quivering puddle of want by whatever means necessary. Barnes certainly fit that bill by the time Rogers lifted his head.

"You're all wet and ready for me, aren't you, baby?" Rogers purred, and Tony had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent himself from moaning out loud. Those words, that sensual tone, coming out of... Captain America? He had to be dreaming. If he was, he would most definitely wake up with sticky sheets.

Barnes gave Rogers a meaningful look, loaded with smut and promise. "Get up here and gimme that huge dick, soldier. Hard."

 _I've died and gone to heaven. Or hell,_ Tony thought, unspeakably grateful for his decision not to outfit the balcony with motion activated lights when he repurposed several floors of the tower to house their merry band of superpowered misfits once he pulled his head out of his ass and brought the team – original and newly minted members alike – back together. The point was, the motion of his fist at the moment would surely trip any motion sensor.

Rogers rose to his feet, shucking his shorts as he went, and Tony had just enough time to gawk – and he thought Rogers had a great ass with clothes on! Sweet merciful fuck! – before Rogers drew Barnes into a standing position and kissed him, deep and hungry. "I got a new one we can try," Rogers panted, taking Barnes' former place on the couch, but instead turning sideways, stretching out along the length of the cushions, and pillowing his head on the arm of the couch. His dick was indeed uncut and exactly as Barnes had described it: _huge._ Tony's mouth watered at the sight of it; God bless America, indeed.  His proclivities tended more toward the ladies, but he had been known to bed especially hot men from time to time, and while he generally preferred to sink into a supple, willing ass, something about Rogers' cock made him squirm with the longing to feel it stretch him wide and plow him deep.

Not that he would ever admit that.

"Climb aboard," Rogers said with a grin that almost made him look like good ol' wholesome Steve again but not quite. "Face my feet."

Arching an eyebrow, Barnes complied, straddling Rogers' lap, and Rogers pressed one hand lightly against his hip, stilling him, as Rogers tore open a packet with his teeth – where the hell did that come from? He must've taken it from his pocket before stripping down, unless these two super-sexpots had lube stashed all over the tower, a thought Tony found irrationally titillating. Tony felt faint as he watched Rogers slick himself with the clear liquid, giving himself a couple strokes before bracing both hands on Barnes' hips and guiding him until Rogers was buried balls-deep and both were panting.

 _No condom. Interesting._ Tony’s mind almost took him off on a tangent about super-serums and disease immunity, but he forced himself to abandon that before he missed what was happening right in front of him.

"Lie back." Rogers sat up just enough to wrap an arm around Barnes' chest, pressing a soft kiss in the center of his back before lying down and pulling Barnes with him. "Bend your knees." When Barnes did so, planting his feet on the couch on either side of Rogers' well muscled thighs, Rogers rolled his hips a couple of times, slowly and gently thrusting into Barnes, whose head dropped to Rogers' shoulder. "That okay?"

Barnes gave a weak nod, his eyes half lidded, and turned his face to meet Rogers' in a semi-awkward but scorching tongue kiss. "Fuck me," Barnes hissed when they parted, just loud enough for Tony to hear it. Holy hell; his friends would have to peel his remains off the lounge chair and hose away the rest. And that was the thought he had _before_ Rogers obeyed the command and began pumping upward into Barnes like it was his goddamn job, gripping his hips and setting a punishing rhythm that immediately dragged a loud, broken moan – really almost a wail – out of Barnes.

 _I'm dying. I'm going to come so hard my brain explodes,_ Tony thought, his eyes wider than they had ever been in his entire life.

If he had any doubt that the two were enjoying themselves before, the sounds they made now left no room for uncertainty. The soft but urgent grunts coming from Rogers paired with the louder moans and fragmented cries Barnes made went directly from Tony's ears to his throbbing crotch. Rogers' stamina was unbelievable; his hard, relentless thrusting never flagged, and Tony had to admit he was awfully curious about what other advantages fucking a super soldier might offer. Barnes certainly seemed to benefit from it.

"Ungh, fuck – Steve!" Barnes fairly howled, clutching Rogers' heaving sides with both hands, and Tony's jaw dropped again as Barnes came untouched, painting thick, creamy stripes up his own deliciously muscled tummy and chest as his body trembled alarmingly, his back arched, his head thrown back against Rogers' shoulder, and his mouth open in a silent cry. Only when Barnes subsided, finally sucking in a breath, did Rogers slow and then stop the movement of his hips, kissing the side of Barnes' head and whispering in his ear. It was impossible to know what he said, but Barnes nodded with a sleepy smile, sitting up to extract himself with care from Rogers, whose mouthwatering cock was still hard as brick and just as red.

"Come here, gorgeous," Rogers murmured as he rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Barnes, sucking light marks onto his flesh shoulder and the side of his neck while Barnes reached between them to stroke Rogers – _with his metal hand! Jesus H. Christ, that was hot!_ Rogers groaned against Barnes' skin and pulled him into a long, languid kiss, which broke only when Barnes drew back just enough to speak, a small but decidedly impish smile playing on his lips.

"Make me come again."

To close his mouth at this point, Tony would need to wire his jaw shut. _How_ was he not dreaming?

Rogers growled, possibly the sexiest thing Tony had ever heard in his life, and, with his arm still wrapped around Barnes' waist, laid Barnes out on the couch as easily as if he was a feather despite their practically equal size. The tenderness in his movements, in the way he dipped down to kiss Barnes again as he reached back and guided Barnes' legs around his waist, was both brain-meltingly sexy and... sweet? Was that it? Tony wasn't good at the emotional stuff, but these two obviously reveled in it, judging by the adoring eye contact they maintained as Rogers pushed inside Barnes again, moving against him with a rhythm much gentler than before, though no less deep. Barnes gripped Rogers' back with one hand and the back of his neck with the other, keeping their upper bodies essentially pinned together, which didn't seem to impede their movement in the slightest. They fit so well together, moved so perfectly in harmony, that Tony realized what he was seeing more than likely originated decades before he was even born and was definitely more than casual sex between buddies. It was a humbling thought that would have made Tony feel guilty about continuing to watch if he cared much about conscience and that sort of thing.

Well, no wonder Rogers fought so hard to find – and then to keep – his Bucky.

Rogers and Barnes might have remained like that, rocking together in sweaty, perfect synchrony, for a minute or an hour; Tony wasn't sure of anything other than the fact that he was going to explode any second, although he was trying to time his orgasm to the grand finale of the performance.

"Steve... baby... don't stop, please don't stop, I'm right there," Barnes gasped, closing his eyes, but Rogers was evidently having none of it.

"Look at me, sweetheart. Lemme see you." Rogers' voice was strained, the tensing of his every muscle evident even from several feet away and through a window screen. Barnes opened his eyes, met Rogers' gaze directly above him, and immediately fell apart, both hands falling to Rogers’ back and gripping so hard that red welts appeared immediately beneath his fingers. Rogers, eyes wide and awe painted all over his statuesque features, watched him convulse and cry out for no more than a few seconds before he let out a low, impassioned cry of his own – “God, _Bucky_!” – and froze with his hips flush against Barnes’ ass, dropping his head to pant his pleasure against his lover’s throat.

Somebody could stick a fork in Tony, because he was done. He came explosively all over his hand with a mighty twitch and a swallowed groan, his teeth buried in his knuckle. _Christ_. His last twenty orgasms combined hadn’t been as strong or intense as this one.

“Oh my God.” Barnes’ head lolled against the couch cushion, a gentle and surprisingly beautiful smile touching his mouth as his eyelids fluttered open. He reached up with his human hand to palm Rogers’ cheek, his thumb tracing one perfect cheekbone.

Rogers turned his face to kiss Barnes’ palm, then tucked a wayward lock of hair behind Barnes’ ear. “I love you, Buck,” he said, his voice so full of raw emotion that Tony actually felt a little bit guilty watching this part, although it wasn’t as if he could go anywhere without alerting them to his presence, and he felt like living another day, thank you very much.

“I love you more.” Barnes pushed himself up on his elbows to steal a brief kiss, his feet finally unhooking from behind Rogers’ waist. Before the exchange could turn into a shmoopy-woopy, lovey-dovey argument over the subject, the oven timer began beeping, and Rogers carefully withdrew, pressing one more kiss to Barnes’ sinfully red mouth before letting him scramble off the couch, snagging his sweats off the floor and managing somehow to step into them as he trotted into the kitchen.

Rogers pulled his shorts on and slumped against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, grinning and looking more relaxed than Tony had literally ever seen him. His short blond hair stood up in sweaty, unruly spikes, color painted his face and splotched his chest, his insanely long lashes fanned out over his cheeks, and fuck if he wasn’t absolutely gorgeous in that moment, more so than any history book or museum exhibit had ever managed to make him look. Tony guessed it had more to do with the love part than the sex part, but he could only hypothesize, because he couldn’t come close to imagining feeling as deeply for someone as these two fossils – correction: these two _sexy, sexy fossils_ – obviously did for each other.

The oven door banged, and Barnes reappeared, pulling Rogers to his feet. “We have thirty minutes before that goes off again,” he said, kissing the tip of Rogers’ nose as he laced his metal fingers with Rogers’. “That should be just enough time for a shower—“

“—and another round?” Rogers looked adorably hopeful, and Barnes laughed, stooping to pick up their respective shirts before dragging Rogers toward the elevator.

“That goes without sayin’, doesn’t it?”

Once they had disappeared into the elevator en route for the floor they shared – Tony made a mental note to find out what they were using the second bedroom for, since clearly neither of them was sleeping in it – Tony rose unsteadily from his chair and used his elbow to slide open the glass door into the kitchen, washing his sticky hands at the sink before turning to lean against the counter. He was completely spent, physically wasted and mentally exhausted, but he bolted upright with wide eyes and the smile of a kid on Christmas morning when a realization in the form of two magic words emblazoned themselves across his brain:

_Security cameras._

Letting out a terribly undignified squeal of glee, Tony bolted for the elevator. He knew one very lucky (and terribly good-looking) wealthy genius who would have no use whatsoever for internet porn for the foreseeable future.

**


End file.
